Bruises Fade, Father
by Luscious Kinney
Summary: Draco, Now in his late twenties stands in his old room, in the empty Malfoy mansion and thinks back on his life... Just a little something that I wanted to get out of my way.... and I appreciate the honesty DubyBug.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of it. Not one bloody scratch. I also don't own the words to I'm OK by: Christina Aguilera. Lyrics have been altered slightly according to gender. Okay, so Christina Aguilera doesn't normally come up when one thinks of Draco Malfoy, but this song has great significance in what we are all sure his father puts him through… blah, blah, blah--  plot, mine. Beware Accordingly. :0)

**Warning:** This story contains physical violence. 

I'm up here in my room again. I haven't seen this room since the war began ten years ago. 

It never fails to amaze me... because just when I am foolish enough to think that Father is going to be gentle with us, the monster rears its head.

_Once upon a time, there was a boy_

_In his early years he had to learn_

_How to grow up living in a war that he called home,_

_Never knew just where to turn for shelter from the storm._

Shh... listen. Mother is downstairs crying again. Judging by the crash and the screams, he threw her. He picked her up and threw her. How do you do that to someone so outwardly delicate? He could have just crushed every bone in her fragile body and it wouldn't have made him happier.

_It hurts me to see the pain cross my mother's face_

_Every time my father's fist would put her in her place._

_Hearing all the yelling I would cry up in my room_

_Hoping it would be over soon._

As for what he does to me, that has become second skin to me. I get home for the summer, he beats me. I swim in our pool to keep my physique, he tries to drown me, or boil me alive. The beatings have been happening so often lately that it's almost like clockwork. Father is just like clockwork... he could never be flesh and blood.

_Bruises fade, father, but the pain remains the same._

_And I still remember how you kept me so afraid._

Strange, though mother is the bane of his existence, she is also his muse. She sits in the corner silently, acting as though nothing is happening. She doesn't dare interrupt my victimization, but she lets the sound of the air being forced from my lungs grate at her until finally she stands, usually when Father's broken a sweat and I can barely pull breath back into my body, and says: That will be quite enough, Lucius, you're killing your son.

_Strength is my mother, for all the love she gave_

_And every morning that I wake, I look back at yesterday..._

_And I'm okay._

Oh, and we can't forget about the nights where they are both drunk. Either they're fucking like animals on Father's antique marble desk (and whilst doing this he has the gaul to call me down and inform me that they're creating another heir), or they're fighting like animals, beating each other's brains out... it starts with me, and either way ends with mother curled up in a ball somewhere, seizing, bleeding. It never fails.

_I often wonder why I carry all this guilt,_

_When it's you that helped me put up all these walls I've built._

_Shadows stir at night through a crack in the door_

_Echoes of a broken child screaming please no more._

While I'm on this non-ending subject, I may as well tell you that he's made me his bitch. Yet another horrible, painful something I have had to numb myself to. There have been nights that were so absolutely excruciating that I beg him as he's leaving my bed to use a memory charm, or a healing spell or both. He wanted me to remember every twist of his features as he came all over me. Another method of control. Countless satin sheets have been ruined on account of his libido. Sick fuck. 

_Daddy, don't you understand the damage you have done_

_For you, it's just a memory but for me it still lives on_

Father died in the war. So did mum, but she went with more honour and self-worth than Lucius Malfoy. He thought he was going to live, and rise to be higher than you-know-wh--- I shouldn't be afraid to say his name. He's dead. Voldemort. Is. Dead. 

_Bruises fade, father, but the pain remains the same._

_And I still remember how you kept me so afraid._

Voldemort overheard Father telling me about how he was going to over throw that, that—

"Demon. Pure and simple... I can't believe nobody tried an erasure spell. Demons are no match for those spells."

So fucking arrogant. I turned out just the same.

_The strength is my mother, for all the love she gave_

_And every morning that I pray, I look back on yesterday..._

"Malfoy." Only a breathy hiss. Merely thinking of it today makes my skin crawl.

I stood there and watched as piece by piece he dismembered my Father, I was in such shock I could do nothing but turn and be sick.

_It's not so easy to forget, all those marks you left along her neck._

_When I was thrown against cold stairs_

_And everyday, afraid to come home in fear of what I might see next..._

I don't want to talk about this anymore. 

And I suggest you leave, because soon this house will burn. 


End file.
